


dance fever

by tearrful



Series: tear's adventures in the blackout club [1]
Category: The Blackout Club (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22549198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tearrful/pseuds/tearrful
Summary: does a jig at ludicrous speeds
Series: tear's adventures in the blackout club [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622395





	dance fever

Gil was alone when they got the new mission, lurking around and slapping up posters on the school. The text was innocent enough and it had only made them raise a brow. A USB? More evidence of all the shit happening in Redacre?

They head to the drop-off spot, because it's not like they really have a choice. Moonlighting (could that even apply here?) for a voice that was the antagonist of basically everyone meant they had to double with how much they helped out the Club, to both help with keeping their head out of their ass and to keep on good terms with the others. But stockpiling more evidence didn't really bode well with them, either. This wasn't something SAO would like kindly on, wasn't it?

Still.

The walk to the house is swift, and thankfully there are windows open for them to crawl through. The bunker house. One of their least favorites, because of the prospect of being shot by some trigger-happy paranoid kid. It hadn't happened yet, though, right? So nothing to do but grin and bear it and get that stupid drive. Upstairs bedroom, the one with the posters. The little USB sits innocently enough on the desk, and there's even a little adapter connected so that they can hook it up to their phone. Cool. Sure. Have a back-up, or something?

But then it starts. They squint at their phone while the files upload, standing patiently next to the desk. They don't have a chance to panic before loud music starts blaring through their phone, and even less time before their heart starts beating like they've been running a marathon. 

"What the fuck?" They choke out, body starting to move on its own accord. They quickly get the message to start moving, and it's almost like they're having a blackout how their legs just start carrying them out of the house and down the streets.

The racket the music was making was good and loud, and the sound of a kid attached and running around with it became a tempting sound for the Sleepers wandering the street. They want to run  _ away _ from them, but there's a hysterical laugh tearing from their chest as they run head on into the fray. No. Fuck, why are they...

They're shocked to see that the Sleepers charging start  _ dancing _ , and the pounding of their heart in their chest is  _ happy _ and they feel like they're going to cry tears of joy. It's overwhelming. What the fuck was happening? Their legs keep going, the music thrumming in their head, Lucids and Sleepers breaking out into  _ fucking dance _ whenever they run past, and at some point the Shape emerges from the too-bright Doors. 

Their body is not their own, and  _ God _ , this is the first time it's ever genuinely dazed them like this. They can't tell if it's a good thing. There's no time to, because as soon as it started it's over. There's still some energy that helps shove them back into their mind and even takes them to the exit. How fucking generous. They collapse as soon as they enter, heaving and hacking up their lungs which are catching up to that feeling of running a marathon, sweat pouring down their flushed face and back. There's euphoria in the feeling (runner's high? was that what this was?) but anxiety is quick to clip in and turn the whole thing into a cocktail of excited, confused fear. 

They're out of it again before they can realize something — er, someone — is guiding them out.


End file.
